


Green-eyed girl

by asterCrash



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aliens, Blood Drinking, F/F, Vampires, Werewolves, What more do you want?, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/asterCrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She shouldn’t be here, this is coven turf, signed and sealed in treaties pre-dating your awakening, pre-dating even the rifts that bind Alternia to Earth and the cross-cultural bloodsucker exchange that brought you here. She may wear her human skin now but you can smell the wolf in her from two hundred paces upwind. The ears are also somewhat of a giveaway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green-eyed girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [confiscatedretina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/confiscatedretina/gifts).



The first thing you notice is her eyes, how they burn like a green sun, glowing within the frame of her soft brown face. You know a little something about glowing yourself.

She shouldn’t be here, this is coven turf, signed and sealed in treaties pre-dating your awakening, pre-dating even the rifts that bind Alternia to Earth and the cross-cultural bloodsucker exchange that brought you here. She may wear her human skin now but you can smell the wolf in her from two hundred paces upwind. The ears are also somewhat of a giveaway. 

What might one of her kind be doing in this grove? You’ve wandered here many a moonless night, the castle proving too noisy to sleep during the hours you prefer, but you’ve never before encountered anything or anyone of interest, only the occasional willing sacrifice, titillated at the thought of offering her neck to one who would take what was given freely. The castle’s occupants are not unknown to people of the nearby areas, however you personally had become something of a celebrity, as you are the only inhabitant not averse to a walk in the Earth’s pale sunlight. Your regular trips into town for foodstuffs (neither vampires nor rainbow drinkers can live off an entirely liquid diet after all), fabrics to toy with in your spare time and the occasional novel had drawn some attention initially. The human reaction to your glowing skin is quite the opposite to that of your fellow trolls, they seem repulsed rather than drawn towards your siren’s light. All the better then, you’d rather not indulge their curiosity by being touchable, you are quite comfortable being a beacon of mystery unto mortals wheresoever you should stride. Good god you really have been letting these earth drinker novels go to your head.

Your unexpected company has not moved from where you first laid eyes on each other, hackles raised and standing defensively though not yet baring her teeth. This is a good thing, were this to become a fang measuring contest you’re not sure how you’d ever get the fur out of your outfit. You’ve yet to actually interact with the wolf people of this planet, though Alternia and Earth both host their respective blood sucking parasites your home lacks for shape-shifting barkfiends. Which is possibly for the best, you can imagine the excitable woofbeast in them just ruining the good carpet at the prospect of living among a nocturnal race and below two bright moons.

“What are you doing here, wolf?” You challenge. Though the grey of your skin and the curve of your horns may mark you as an alien you are still a drinker and there is a certain shared pride to these tribal scuffles. 

“Initiation ritual.” replies the interloper. She’s strong. Defiant. At least a little cute. “I’m here to smell the scent of events long past. To howl where ancestors howled before me. To gaze on the moon from a place I’ve never stood and know it’s the same moon to be seen by all who come after me.” Correction: more than a little cute.

“This soil is for those who were buried in it, not for those wanting to bury bones for later. I’m afraid I’d have to charge a toll for any excessive commotion at this hour, and you know what payment my kin demand of those seeking passage under our night sky.

Her ears flatten against her head and she growls a warning at you. It’s quite charming in its own bestial manner. “My blood stays where it is, mosquito. I will pay no toll to prove my worth for the pack. Claim the sky all you want but the moon that rules it is ours.”

“What a cute woofbeast you are. Are you saying you wish to dance with the scary rainbow drinker?”

She bares her fangs at that, you’re quite certain it’s more grin than snarl. “If you want to dance,” green fire rushes out from her eyes and tears across her skin, burning away ragged cloth to leave behind white fur where presumably there was skin alone before. Her flat teeth stretch into pointed fangs and her mouth juts outwards into the beginning of a muzzle. Nails grow into proper claws and feet shift into long padded paws. She lets out a howl at the completion of her shifting, tilting her neck up to the moon before bringing her head back down to lock eyes with you once more. “Then let’s dance.”

She makes to charge at you and you set your skin to stun. The blinding white light shining out of you hits her eyes in a second and through the green fire you can see her pupils contract to slits. A matador’s twirl to the side and now she’s staggered past you, swiping at the air in front of her eyes as if that could give her vision back. You close the distance and bring your arms up along the fur of her torso, running gently through the soft white hair dappled with the light emanating from your fingers. She struggles against your grip at first but then shudders to a halt as you cup her rumblespheres, exposed to the night as they are and therefore within your right as a vampire to claim. You’ve pleasured enough human maidens to know what they like, and you hope the bestial side of her has no objection to your claws running circles around her nipples, flicking across the hardening nubs to keep her focus trained on you. Her growl gives way to a whine of pleasure as your fingers continue to tease her, lithe and caressing as you explore the soft flesh buried in downy fur. You take the opportunity to kick her legs out from under her and the two of you go crashing down into the mossy loam below. Mist parts around you, white fur on brown skin on green ground surrounded by swirling white fog, topped by a glowing grey girl with green blood.

You’ve landed fortunately, one of your knees riding up between her thighs and a hand on either side of her head. She’s still recovering from your little flash before and you take the time to admire how pretty she looks illuminated by your radiance. She must be quite new to her shape by human standards or simply not as bestial as some of the werewolves you’ve heard descriptions of. While her lower half is almost entirely coated in the white of her fur it peters out where her breasts begin and just short of her shoulders. She strikes you as rather beautiful if somewhat immature, the brown of her decolletage a very tempting target for your bloodlust when framed by the white of her fur. Atop her head black hair falls to splay out on the ground beneath her, white roots spreading out as fluff around the base of her ears, trailing two streaks back along her scalp. Her lipstick is a dark shade of green, a pleasant jade glittering in your light, much to your appreciation. Prey should always dress in the colour of their hunter, you decide, it adds a certain predestination to the chase, like serendipity but with more biting.

You bring your mouth down to hers, dying for a taste of her shining green lipstick. She exhales past you as her lips part for your kiss. You don’t press in just yet, enjoying the soft back and forth while she lies helpless below you. You feel her shudder at your mouth’s caress, stomach tensing as her hips lift off the ground to get some friction against your bare leg where it peeks through the split of your dress. You press her back onto the ground with a firm right hand, marvelling in the softness of her belly fur. She seems to be enjoying the contact so you give her a gentle stroke from top to bottom then lifting back upwards and letting your nails scratch her lightly as you go. She croons so softly and sweetly at that, you feel compelled to do it again. Eventually she’s no longer truly pinned beneath you as you’ve risen to your knees in order to apply both hands to her stomach for more vigorous belly rubs. You barely resist the temptation to ask if she knows who is a good girl. She’s bouncing a leg idly between your thighs in response to the pleasure and a bright smile is plastered across her wolfish features. If you’d known Earth woofbeasts could be this adorable you would have petitioned the coven for a pet ages ago.

All good things do come to an end unfortunately and you bring your hands to a halt as a claw closes around one of your wrists. “There are other places you can rub” your new furry friend lets you know.”

“I suppose I could scratch you behind the ears as well if they’re feeling neglected.” She giggles at that, rendered deep and throaty by her transformation yet still so full of innocent glee.

“I was thinking somewhere a little lower” she offers, nudging your hand down in a direction decidedly away from her ears. You leave the hand she has gripped planted on her stomach and instead move your right down to ghost over her crotch. A former midnight snack had left an impression on you with her delicate ministrations and so inspired, you’ve since kept the claws of your index and middle finger closely trimmed on your right hand for just such an opportunity to pass on what you learned. You let the clawtips of your other fingers rake lightly across the inside of her thighs, imparting a sense of danger that’s plain from the way a pointed tooth digs into her lip curving her face into the most seductive rendition of “not sure if want” you’ve ever seen. You slick your safe fingers on her moistened lips, drawing out a soft and breathy moan from your plaything. You repeat the action just to see if she’ll make such a sweet noise for you twice but all you get in response is a rumbling groan of pleasure and impatience. You could tease her all night if she keeps making noises like that, learn to play her like an instrument. You pull your fingers up along her entrance a third time, pressing just a slight amount harder, enough to temporarily enter her outer lips while she gasps a “please” above you and releases your left hand to place a paw in your hair. She rubs insistently at your scalp, intent to push you faster, impatient to have more than just light touches applied to her. Her interference gets the desired result, you suppress a moan as she rubs the sensitive bases of your horns but you cannot keep your fingers from entering her fully. She makes a sound somewhere between a coo and a growl as you begin to stroke her from the inside, making an educated guess that the “come hither” motion you picked up has a bit more significance to humans than it does to trolls. It’s a good guess. Her hips arch up, pulling herself further onto your hand and you do you best to caress her as deeply as you can reach.

As you begin the second part of the technique and start rotating your clawless fingers in circles around her insides she drops her hand from your head down to your shoulder and brings her other claw up to complete the symmetry. You’re not quite sure what she’s doing until you feel her nails dig into your flesh and hot streaks are drawn all the way down your back. A long moan escapes your lips and your thinkpan fries with the pleasure of pain, interrupting the rhythm of your right hand within her. You break down from your position above her to kiss her hotly on the lips, hissing as you go. Not since you left Alternia have you been able to find a partner who could give you what a troll would give without thinking. No vampire of your coven has claws that are anything more than vain painted decorations to add to their empty mystique and no mortal human has claws to begin with. You want more, you want her to scrape you clean. You find yourself begging so against her lips, words half-coherent when interspersed with chirring and buzzes coming from so deep within you. Her hands drop to your ass and the unnatural curve of her fingers lets her knead your plump flesh while scoring your cheeks with jade lines. You’ll not be able to sit comfortably for days. You never imagined you could be quite so sensitive down there, but she milks you for more pleasure than you’re certain you’ve ever had with a partner of any species. Your bulge is torpidly working its way out of your sheathe to investigate what all the ruckus is about.

You keep your mouth applied to her face however you can, sucking gently at her check or nibbling her jawbone, anything to keep tasting her as she rides your fingers and plays you to shameful delight like a harpsichord. You draw your tongue in a long line from her jaw to her cheekbones and kiss at the corner of her eyes. They still glow so green with the fire of her transformation. She giggles between gasped breaths and turns away from your kiss, you make to pursue until you notice she’s not so much leaning away from you as tilting to give you a better angle at her neck.

“Does the noble wolf offer her throat to the dark of night?” You ask, because you’ve been drowning in trashy earth literature and you don’t know how not to play into corny tropes, this is a serious problem and it’s not awfully nice of her to laugh at your condition.

“A wolf never surrenders herself,” she responds and you’re a tad disappointed. She smells so nice beneath you, surely she wouldn’t deny you a drink from such a delicious specimen “but she could not complain if a predator took what was inadequately defended.” She tilts her head a little further to leave her throat completely exposed to you. It appears to be as much of an invitation as centuries of cross species aggravation can allow. A vampire needs only one invitation.

You rub your fangs across the soft (fortunately hairless) skin of her neck, applying the natural anesthetic that brings your morsels such pleasure while you drain them of their excess fluids. There’s a singular groan as you enter her neck, then a sigh as she eases into the bite and her rich drink begins to flow into your mouth. Her blood tastes unlike any other you’ve feasted on. There’s a hint of spice to it, like chai coating her hemoglobin. Something in the magic that holds the beast bound within her comes through in the taste, dancing across your tongue like faerie fire. You drink more to quench the burn. You think you may be becoming intoxicated off such a strong flavour and it wouldn’t do to lose control with your fangs sunk into the neck of a nice young lady. 

You release your teeth from her neck, four distinct pinpoints (you’ve no idea why the books always say two) left to drip red down her throat. Her moan does enough complaining at the release for both of you but when you withdraw your hands from her nethers she squeals in protest, claws clamping down on your rear. She obviously doesn’t know how much that reaction on spurs you on to tease her. You draw your sodden fingers up to your lips and plunge them into your mouth. If you can’t have the drink you desire you’ll just have to substitute.

Even down there she has a rich taste, distinctly more sour than the iron bite of her blood but pleasant none the less. You take a few moments to ensure every drop of her wetness is licked clean from your fingers where she can see it. You even teasingly draw your tongue out to its full length, every human girl you’ve known has been just as excited to see how long as dextrous you can lick as the girls back home on Alternia. You do your best to communicate with your tongue curling out in the air that if she’s very well behaved she might get to see it in action later, and you’ll get to taste some more of her juices directly from the source.

Your bulge is certainly eager to get on to the main event however this is the closest you’ve come to a lull in the action since a werewolf first interrupted your moonlit stroll. You really should consider introducing yourself before proceeding further. You clear your throat and do your best to maintain composure, though you’re sure the dark green flush to your cheeks belies your excitement. “Woofbeast, you should know who has so claimed you. I am Kanaya Maryam of the planet Alternia, a powerful rainbow drinker of blood a most noble jade.” You swear you will pick up a normal romance novel the next time you are in town and read it cover to cover, no more Anne Rice knock-offs.

“Nice to meetcha Kanaya” she grins as she butchers the pronunciation your name by inserting a satisfied sigh in the middle of it “I am a mighty earth woofbeast of the Harley pack, bearing the most noble name of Jade.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true!” She exclaims with a happy flash of her teeth. She lifts a hand up to examine where your blood has caked her nails “Wow, you really do have green blood huh? What’s a fancyblooded alien doing in this backwater part of the planet?”

“You seem to be forgetting that you’re the intruder here, not I,” you chastise playfully. “Was there nowhere else you could have your little shouting at sky rocks ceremony?” You do your best to put a relaxed smirk on over your blushing face and eager eyes. You’re still working on the finer points of human sarcasm and you’d hate to cross the line between playful banter and actually hurtful. You do still want to pail her after all.

“My shouting at sky rocks ceremony has to take place in a prestigious location to be worth anything! The more hotly contested and historically interesting the location the more honour for me among my packmates. I’d definitely say that my presence here has been hotly contested.” She gives you an infuriatingly cute wink at her awful line. Then again you’ve sort of been setting the pace for cheesy banter tonight so you’re certain you can forgive her.

“I’ve reviewed all the lore this coven has to offer and they’ve mentioned nothing significant about this grove.” In truth it was easily conceded in the last round of treaties as it possessed no strategic value, it was simply a nice place to walk and convenient to the nearby castle.

“Weeeeell I might have also got a tip from some girls in town that there may or may not be a cute alien vampire who sometimes stalks this misty hills at night.” She avoids your eye contact at that disclosure. You weren’t aware your indiscretions were attracting notice, favourable notice even. Maybe you should consider thanking your advertisers for sending you so delicious and playful a morsel next time you’re in town. “Speaking of which, they were very specific about a certain unique part of you I’ve been dying to try for myself and I’m sort of over waiting, so sorry for this next bit.”

“This next wh-” in one smooth and entirely too strong movement you’re thrown into the air, landing hard on your back a few metres from where you started.

She’s on you in an instant. Breath hot on your neck, straddled over your hips with her crotch pressed hot and dripping onto your own. She wastes no time in running her claws through the front of your shirt, reducing it to ribbons and letting the light of your thorax out into the cool night air. In fairness the shirt was ruined after what she did to your back. She presses her fangs hungrily into your rumblespheres, not breaking the skin as she’s done on your back but you scream at the rough attention nonetheless. She doesn’t look up from where she continues to tear into you, her claws working to open your skirt to her needs. In her frenzy you’re either going to be here all night or the skirt will be ruined anyway, so you deign to help out, shredding the waistband to free your lower half from its confinement. She looks up from your chest at that, grinning at your cooperation with her wild breed of lovemaking. She makes short work of your underwear, turning a simple yet functional garment into so much torn material lying on the ground. Then she licks your bulge and you can’t care about anything else in this world or any other apart from making her do *that* again. She slobbers all over your length, like the barkfiend she is. You hiss as she abandons your writhing member for a taste of your nook, her muzzle leaving her unfortunately unable to penetrate deeply enough to reach your seedflap. You grab the scruff of her neck, which now sports a growing length of fur, and pull her head back up to keep its attentions on your wiggling need.

Jade, however, ignores your need, taking the momentum you gave her to glide right over your crotch and bring her face back up to nestle atop your chest, nuzzling into the soft flesh of your rumblespheres. You are just about ready to scream at the injustice before you feel her press her bared entrance up against the root of your bulge. The pressure and heat alone are enough to turn that scream into a clicking moan and your grip goes soft in her hair. She presses her hips down into you hard, such that as much as your bulge writhes it can’t actually work its way into her. You can feel her in intimate detail through your root, you can feel the softness of her lips and the hard little nub she has in place of a real bulge. You know how the women of this planet love their bulges played with so you make sure to concentrate some of your own member’s flailing into something more like the soft circular motions they’re so fond of. Jade locks her lips with you as you begin your motions, clearly grateful for your experience in interspecies concupiscent activity. 

Not lasting long under your attentions, Jade eventually breaks and lifts free enough of your crotch for your bulge to move towards her seat of warmth and enter her. The sensation is amazing as always, the warmth and pressure and softness of the human nook is beyond compare. There may be no seedflap to grip but you can stretch forward and plumb her depths, freedom enough explore within her. Your acclimatisation is cut short however, as she begins to rut against you, bestial and rough. Your bulge slides helplessly within her, lashing around in desperate hope for something to latch on to. You feel it coil and rub along the ribbed lining of her front wall and she howls like you never thought a creature could. Primal terror rushes along your spine and it only makes your bulge want more. The vertigo-like sensation of not having anything to connect to inside of her, sliding helplessly back and forth, coiling in ever growing fear of having nowhere to release, it drives you as wild as she looks. You claw at the fur along her back, it feels so much thicker and more real than when you first dropped her to the mossy floor you now lie upon yourself.

At last you feel her clench up around you, walls closing in to choke the life out of your bulge. Her back arches uncontrollably and her claws puncture your shoulders as she lets out a cry more animal than anything else you’ve heard from her. The rush of feeling her climax around you is enough to set off your own release and she lets out another cry as your material rushes out to fill her. She holds you tight through your entire release and well after, only separating from you when your bulge, spent, retracts back into its sheathe. 

She slides off you onto the moss beneath, you turn to keep eye contact. Of all the human’s you’ve pailed this one alone has truly held your attention. Perhaps there’s something to be explored with a woofbeast of a girl who sees ‘danger’ and thinks ‘fun’. “What if I could offer you a _more_ prestigious location for your initiation?” You offer, hardly thinking the idea out in full before beginning to articulate it.

“Like where?” She replies, face sembling back towards a buck toothed grin as her fur steadily retreats down her body.

“Somewhere no werewolf can claim to have howled before. Underneath a sky stranger than your own, bearing two full moons. Basically I’m asking if you would like to come back to my place?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
